Frank N Furter Novels & Stories

Adam glared at him but he didn't care. “The big guy lost a bet when we were in high school. We dared him to dress as the Grinch and snatch the presents from the mall Santa,” Frank said and Adam cleared his throat. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” Adam said, trying to conclude the subject. “Not quite. Santa turned out to be a veteran and whooped his ass,” Frank added and laughed madly. Adam just glared at him in disgust. Jessica sniggered and went to the kitchen to fetch some extra dishes.

I say softly, still smiling as I watch him be all bashful. “Oh, that wouldn’t have been creepy at all,” he says, rolling his eyes and then returning his gaze to me, making me laugh. “Hi, my name is Frank, I’m your childhood best friend’s mafia lackey, training to be his hitman! I read the private emails you send to him, I think you’re cool!” “Awww,” I say, laughing again, “teenage Frankie sounds so friendly.” “No, he was shy,” Frank says with a short laugh and a long sigh. “But…big fan of yours. And then the reality of you, when we found out it was you that Christian brought home from that club?”

I guess I never really understood the lure of working for the Mafia in the first place. “You working this afternoon?” Franky asked, lighting his cigarette as he leaned against the lamp post. He reminded me of those gangsters from those vintage movies. You know, the ones with the greased back hair and waistcoats. “Do I have a choice?” I asked him sarcastically and he laughed in response, knowing full well that I didn’t get days off as long as Mother had something to say about how I lived my life. “Alright then. I guess I will see you soon, sunshine,” he winked at me before he left.

Shocked, I let go of Adam's hair. "FINALLY!" He shouted, fixing his hair. "Adam, what happened here?" Franco asked him. "Your granddaughter is nuts and must be confined!" I glared at him while Franco chuckled, "I guess choosing my guts was right; to go here." When Franco released both of the cuffs, I looked at him. "Where is 'here' exactly?" "In the Underground." "Huh." I shrugged, pointing at Adam's hair, "You should start using conditioner." "You should start using nail clippers."

I stood up, and we shook hands and hugged before he settled down on the opposite side of the chair “You look shit ass tired,” Frank said with a little chuckle as he reviewed me, accessing the level of tiredness I've known Franklin forever, with his tall frame and the moles on his face and the tattoos that are everywhere on his body, and the way he wears his long hair Franklin is someone I've worked with all through the process of developing my company, and he has basically been my best friend He is really tall and while I might not be the lady's man, Frank is the opposite.

“What if I don’t want to drink?” Andrius glared at everyone present coldly. “Don’t want to drink?” Fatty Frank scoffed and then looked at the man beside him. “Pip, remind me, what happened to the last guy who didn’t do as he was told?” Pip simply said, “That guy is now a carpet in my house. Furry on one side, naked on the other. My friends thought I got a lousy bear rug.”

“Why we’re trusting something this sensitive to a bunch of trust-fund babies with hygiene issues is totally beyond my comprehension, but this is the situation and we’re dealing with it.” “Huh?” Bill doesn’t quite follow. Frank cocks an eyebrow. “Eh?” “What did I do to deserve this?” Bill says, mostly to himself. Frank’s already twisted his inner dial to a different channel. “Did I ever tell you, when I was a kid, I saw the last show Nirvana ever played? I swear, there was not a man or woman in that place who did not want to drop to their knees and suck Kurt dry right there.” “That’s not a very Christian impulse, buddy.”

"Then this will be your first time, and you're in luck because I make the best popcorn. The secret lies with the amount of butter I use, but don't tell anyone." Frank smiles, about to thank me, but he is interrupted by his phone ringing on the coffee table. I hit pause with the controller, and Frank presses the phone to his ear. "Frank Hiddleston, the butler of the Parker family, speaking. How may I help you?" The other person speaks, and Frank's face rapidly pales. His eyes travel to mine while he keeps listening. He seems to be breaking into a cold sweat and stands up to pace the room. "But he is still breathing?"

Frank was on his bed mindlessly scrolling while Jeff his roommate slept off. He grimaced at the snoring, Jeff was a good roommate, the only problem was his snoring. It was so loud. His phone buzzed with a text. Petey👅 😈: Hey grandpa 🧓 ♠️ Frank: really, I got an upgrade? Petey👅 😈: yep, what are you up to ♠️ Frank: trying to relax

He focused them. "Holy shit, you weren't kidding about her." He took the glasses down and Babs clicked off the light. Frank sat and sipped his IPA. I sipped mine and waited. He was an older version of Paul, long and lean, brown hair and blue eyes. Just a little heavier with a few more lines on his face. My little show of my wife was intended to send a not so subtle message. I was going to let Frank decide, but now he knew I was game for some grown-up play.